


The Artes of Passion

by Overthinkerwrites



Series: Tales of Femslash Week 2017 [1]
Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Comedy, F/F, Multi, Prompt: Passion, Tales of Femslash Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overthinkerwrites/pseuds/Overthinkerwrites
Summary: The women of the Abbey hold themselves to high standards.  Especially when it comes to one particular woman.-Written for Tales of Femslash Week 2017.





	The Artes of Passion

The Throne of the Empyreans.

  
Tall, imposing, and relentless in its display of power and dominion.

  
Yet, something was rotten in the state of Midgand.

  
Within, the Legates and notable Praetors assembled with the Shepherd to discuss a most vexing thorn that refused to be removed.

  
“I have received reports that there has been unrest in Titania,” Shepherd Artorious announced calmly.

 

Oscar Dragonia saluted. “Yes, my lord. As the next Crimson Night approaches, the prisoners grow more and more bold.”

  
“The garrison stationed at Titania is sufficient, is it not?”

  
“Yes, Shepard, though, with your permission, I would request a squad of High Praetors to be held on hand, just in case."

  
Artorious stroked his chin in thought. “I assume it is because of one particular prisoner.”

  
“Yes, Shepherd. Velvet Crowe the Devourer. She is more restless than most.”

  
He nodded. “I will permit it.”

  
“Thank you, Shepherd. Though, I wish it wasn’t the case,” Oscar clenched his fist angrily, “I despise that Velvet Crowe with all her nasty, evilness.”

  
“I as well!” Eleanor Hume interjected, mimicking Oscar with her clenched fist, “I’ll wager her bottom is most delightfully thick!”

  
Everyone and everything went silent, even the sinister organ music one heard whenever the approached or entered the Throne of the Empyreans.

  
Confused, she looked to the rest of the congregation, unsure why her statement brought everything to a halt.

  
Oscar’s face became imperfect with rage, because he knew that he had no butt.

  
There was only speculation, but Oscar’s butt had left him a while ago, making it abundantly clear not to look for it. As such, his pride never recovered.

  
“Hold, Oscar,” Teresa Lineras held him at bay before she turned to the others, “continue, Shepherd, I will clear this matter with Praetor Hume in the meantime. I shall not be long.”

  
Artorious was clearly uncomfortable for a moment before Teresa’s assurance calmed him enough to continue the meeting.

 

Outside, Teresa turned to Eleanor and raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Now then, Praetor Hume; care to explain yourself?”

  
Eleanor held her hands together and took a deep breath. It was difficult to explain this to the likes of someone as decidedly frigid as Teresa Lineres.

  
Regardless, she had to press on.

  
She leaned in closely and whispered eagerly, “Certainly she excels at ‘eating out’!”

  
Teresa frowned. “Really now, Praetor. There is no need to be so base and lurid.” She held her staff close and stated confidently. “After all, there is a reason why it is more commonly known among the Sororities as,” she flipped her hair with her free hand elegantly, “‘Fine Dining’.”

  
All of a sudden, several gears clicked into place in Eleanor’s head.

  
The only male that she allowed near her was family.

  
The famous entourage of Abbey nuns that proceeded her wherever she went.

  
The constant and repeated swoonings of women in her very presence!

  
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “So, it is you who is called…”

  
She paused dramatically.

 

_“Le Connoisseur!”_

  
It was a title given only to a woman who could stir the hearts of maidens, matrons, and matriarchs to great feats of passion!

  
Such was her elegance!

  
Such was her grace!

  
Such was her desire!

 

To invoke her name alone caused many an Abbey woman to swoon most swoonfully!

  
Men respected her. Women loved her! And all in between wanted to be her!

  
The first _Le Connoisseur_ was so charming that even Claudin Asgard could not resist, though he knew he could never win her heart, for it belonged to her protege!

  
Teresa smiled confidently. She flipped her fabulous hair again, this time sparkles accentuating it.

  
“Sharp woman, you are, Praetor Hume. Now, that you have discovered my secret identity,” with no warning, she tossed her staff away and in a flourish akin to ballet, she took Eleanor in her arms and declared, “you too must be wooed!”

  
Eleanor, under Teresa’s powerful charm, gasped in shock and wonder. Yet, she turned away and declared, “No, Lady Teresa! It can never be!”

  
Undeterred, Teresa whispered into her ear sensually, “Look into your heart, Chezmerelda, er, Praetor Hume.”

  
“Oh,” Eleanor briefly considered the wooing. To love and be loved by a woman of such passion! It was too good to be true!

  
She was about to kiss Teresa when she remembered another little fact about _Le Connoisseur_.

  
To be sought out by her meant that she had found someone that had the passion to be the next!

  
She could not succumb now!

  
Reluctantly, and with tears in her eyes, she wrested herself from Teresa’s loving embrace.

  
“Forgive me, Lady Teresa. To know and experience love the way you do would be to step into the heavens,” Eleanor held her hands together in sorrow, “alas, I cannot! For I am not ready! My passions have yet to be worthy of yours!”

  
Teresa retrieved her staff and smiled. “You learn quickly, Praetor Hume. I expect great things from you.”

  
As she returned to the meeting, Eleanor, blushing with desire, turned back and sighed wistfully, “And you shall have them and me as well.”

  
She then clenched her fist as the fires of her passion inspired determination in her heart!

  
“I must train further in the Artes of Passion!”

  
*

  
Both Velvet and Eleanor looked up from the manuscript to Magilou.

  
“What the hell did we just read?!” Velvet frowned irritably.

  
“A bestseller, that’s what!” Magilou protested.

  
Eleanor had curled up into a ball of embarrassment and hoped there was a hole under a mountain deep enough to hide her somewhere nearby.

  
“But it’s horrible!” Velvet stated bluntly.

 

“Exactly!” Magilou smirked, “yet, people eat this purple prose to the point where we’d make millions! Millions, I tell you!”

  
Eleanor, who was as red as a tomato, was not so convinced. 

**Author's Note:**

> Pink bubbles, pastel colors, and sparkles... everywhere... makes a perfect scene for an obscure Homestarrunner reference, no?
> 
> I'm half tempted to write more of "Magilou writes Trashy Romance Novels" in this story. And it just might happen.
> 
> Inspired by Munadoodles comic:  
> http://munadoodlesnonsense.tumblr.com/post/148083759587/oh-my-thats-lewd-af-you-fucking-traitor


End file.
